We settle into an easy 70 mph on Kansas’ east-west route and wait for the Tour to catch up to us. All too soon they do, and blow by us in quick fashion. We catch back up at WaKeeney, where the Tour soon overflows both gas stations and ties up the town.

Several of the Tour cars block big rigs from leaving the diesel pumps. After some animated discussion the cars move, and the big rigs hit the road. We soon follow, and settle back into our long drive.

Russell, Kansas appears on the horizon. As last year’s readers will recall, we stopped in Russell and tried to find home town hero Bob Dole’s house for pictures with our trusty companion, Jack. No luck last year, and since his recent fame as a Viagra test member, we figure Bob is much too busy at this early hour to stop what he’s doing for a chat and photo shoot. Maybe next year.

After the oil derricks fade in the distance, we notice cows. Lots of cows. Lots and lots of cows. Good Earth residents we are, we figure there is enough methane gas being generated here to power the Tour for a month. We stop, and Gary rigs up his multi-meter in an attempt to measure the output.

When Topeka’s gas stop overflows the lot,

turning the Kansas capitol into gridlock, we decide to head east for our favorite Kansas attraction, the Agriculture Hall of Fame.

Hopefully next year the Hot Rod people will agree to a stop here for the chance to see some machinery that can REALLY plow a furrow.

Thanks to Edelbrock’s wonderful food, our stomachs are full, and hunger pangs quenched. Content, I walk the lot, finding both local cars. . . 

. . . and long haulers which look ready for serious action.

The real long haulers, though, must be the Kiwis from New Zealand.

Like their fellow countrymen did last year, these adventurous souls flew in to LA, purchased a car (this year, a ’74 boat tail Buick Riviera), personalized it with flat black paint, flames and salt flat-ready pancake hubcaps. A better group of chaps you’ll never find.

As the lots fill up we find more and more interesting rides,

including a real Yenko Camaro.

Roy Brizio’s rod which we saw in Pomona.

A screaming yellow Chevy 4 X 4 from before I was born.

Gary decides to clean the carb of the 442 and adjust mixtures to better take advantage of our lower elevation.

As always, a crowd gathers, giving Gary the chance to explain to all within earshot the advantages of Oldsmobile power over other more mundane nameplates.

While detailing the car, Gary discovers our faithful companion, Jack, has let his true feelings be known about the 440-plus mile drive of today.

I’m still convinced it was the methane gas experiment gone awry that has Jack in such a dour mood. Either that, or Jack’s insurance company has determined they won’t cover HIS Viagra medication.

Long haulers are in evidence everywhere, including Harry and Cindy in a ’67 Firebird from Virginia. They drove from Richmond (capitol of the Confederacy, if memory serves me correct) to LA in three days, THEN turned around to drive back. Their license plate said it all:

Primered hot rods have been in the last couple of years, and some enterprising souls took it upon themselves to spoof the Power Tour logo to something more appropriate for their paint.

After cleaning, detailing and generally spiffing the 442 up, we assaulted the front lot of our cruise host, Station Casino for one last photo op before returning to the hotel for the night’s typing, photo editing and uploading.